


All Hallow's Eve

by upquarkAO3



Series: Random Dross from Season Two [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Gen, Halloween at Lux would be fantastic - wish I'd written that., Maze and Luci save the day - kinda, childcare is still an issue - thanks Dan, family isn't always welcome, new beginnings with old paradigims
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 07:04:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8362246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upquarkAO3/pseuds/upquarkAO3
Summary: Mischief Night and Halloween. Humans and Hellions and Angels, oh my. Some of Chloe's thinky thoughts, to quote another writer-y friend.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ScooterThyme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScooterThyme/gifts).



> This is in response to a fun Halloween prompt generated by Scooter! Rating for brief instances of profanity/off-color character thoughts. In my imagination it was initially ‘melt on your mind’ cotton candy fluffy noise. In reality…not so much. Oops. I’d written the end before the promo for S2Ep5, so I’d ask for some leeway on that. I simply follow what the fingers type, folks.

 

 

[ - ]

Chloe sat with her shoulders slumped, back against the wall (literally and figuratively) surrounded by broken chunks of the presumptions she’d had of her life. Held in cardboard packing boxes dented like her expectations, no less. She was glaring aqua daggers at the phone in her hand, trying to decide if she wanted to curse, cry or scream.

Maybe all three.

Simultaneously.

Sure, that would be a nice icebreaker to meet the new neighbors with. _“Hi, oops, sorry about the noise. No, please don’t call the cops; see I_ **_am_ ** _one, and most of them don’t really like me anyway…no wait…I AM serious. Yes, really. Honestly I’m a decent person, just under a little stress lately.”_

Well, it couldn’t be any worse than having Maze do the introductions now would it? She could just hear it now; _‘you even_ **_think_ ** _of looking at me in a way I don’t appreciate, I’ll string you up. By your shortest appendage. And by the looks of you, that’s pretty puny.’_  Cue gasping fear, no invitations to neighborhood shindigs, and probably a keyed car etc etc.

She put the phone down, drew her knees up, rested her elbows on them and jammed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets in an attempt to settle her rattling brain inside. What had her life come to? This time last year, her ‘normal’ was balancing a stressful job, uncomfortable working environment and keeping her child as safe as possible from the shatters as her marriage hit the rocks in cheap, stutteringly stop-motion cinema.

And now?

Normalcy meant said marriage disintegrating - and it wasn’t even HER who finally threw the towel in! Again! What the hell, Dan?! Sometimes she wished she’d socked him harder when she had the chance. Not particularly proud of herself for that, but there it was. And speaking of (Hell - not Dan), she had a partner who self-identified as the Actual Honest to God (hahaha) Freaking **Devil**. And the latently disturbing hum in her head that he actually might be wasn’t particularly soothing for her mental status quo. And…that made his sometime sidekick – and her new roommate (jesus christ; seriously, tequila?) what? A legit  demon? Nah. Crazy as he was, most likely.

Well….even if she wasn’t (a demon, **wt** actual **f** ), Maze was. Crazy, that is. And her daughter was crazy about her. Both of them, actually. Which made this new scenario….

Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

And she was perfectly furious, too; hadn’t forgot that, oh no….no sirree. Nope.

Chloe sighed, knotting her knuckles under her chin and staring caustically at the ceiling. She’d torn into the apartment complex’s parking lot fuming about the blight of LA traffic delays with each single footfall pounding up the stairs. New place being located closer to school meant Trixie would be taking the bus home; a novel thing for her. And that was a little stressful for everyone. Arguing with Dan at the precinct over who should be free today had so annoyed Maze (who’d stopped by on a conjugal visit to the secretary) that she’d stepped in to say SHE’D be happy to meet the kid since she had unpacking to do anyway and would they all just SHUT UP about it already. Chloe had been simultaneously grateful and wary, promising to be home as soon as she could. Glowering at Dan while she spoke…this dynamic wasn’t new. Nope again.

Chloe had burst in the door…to nothing. No one. No one here, no one answering their phones…not Trix, not Maze, not even Lucifer…nothing.

She was still hair-trigger sensitive to potential threat of her daughter’s safety after the Malcolm debacle and her agile mind ran through no small number of potentially earth-shattering calamities before her logical brain clicked in. If she couldn’t get a hold of *anyone* they were probably together. In a heap at the bottom of a freeway **or** (please, concept-of-god) just up to their usual troubling pranks. Trix’s own penchant for mischief was growing by leaps and bounds with the dynamic duo further enmeshed in her life. Yet another awesome postscript to Reality as Chloe Now Knew It. Life really was a dry grind sometimes. ‘Not like even that’s familiar anymore either’ she fumed, finger-stabbing the screen again.

Thankfully it was Option B as Lucifer had *finally* answered his damn phone. Trying to defend himself against her onslaught of _‘you have that stupid thing with you ALL the time now – why didn’t you answer??! rant, shriek, etc.’_ he’d finally been able to get a word in edgewise when she stopped yelling long enough to slurp a breath.

“My dear Detective…your progeny is fine. She’s with us; so really, how could she be anything else? We simply had our hands full.”

Lucifer was perplexed and a little annoyed. The detective had certainly become more expressive lately and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. He’d done her an unbidden favor – another one, actually, expensive dolls notwithstanding…and yet again, his efforts were punted by the wayside. He’d wanted to give Chloe some time to acclimate herself to her new place and maybe she’d tolerate unpacking better without any “help” from the child. Or Maze; his demonic conundrum could be overbearing on the best of days, more so more recently and entertaining them both was a little taxing for him. Put-out and unjustly under-appreciated here, he righteously felt. Trying to trigger some appropriate guilt he wondered aloud if the detective found his housewarming wine chilling in the fridge…from the shrillness in her voice, likely answer was ‘no’. His (very helpful, obviously) suggestion that she get uncorked, calm herself down and make proper use of her time was met by some heavy breathing. He began to smile before he remembered that in Chloe’s case, that probably didn’t bode well and knotted his brow instead. Waiting.

He was right. Chloe was momentarily speechless – he KNEW how she worried about Trixie! Especially now, after…everything. What she didn’t know was that it mirrored his own concerns for her ‘after everything’. Oblivious to the undercurrent of his frets, she felt herself ramp up. If she thought she’d been angry before, **well**. He’d sounded so nonchalant that she wanted nothing more than to reach through the screen and strangle the smirk right out of his voice. Gritting her teeth, she growled ferally at him.

It was adorable. He wanted her to fume that way on his behalf, too.

“Where. Is. She?”

“I told you, Detective! With us! Here at Lux…getting ready for the big night. Little minx actually has some pretty snazzy ideas, who’da thunk it?”

_“What?”_

“All Hallows’ Eve, darling. **You** know - haunts, hijinks, highballs… _high balls_ …” He laughed here, and she decided she’d kill him then administer successful CPR simply so she could kill him again. “…perfect storm of altered identities and general loosening of proverbial knickers. If worn, that is. Regardless, not like the latter is a difficulty I’ve got often truth be told, and I always do tell true m’dear, as you well know…”

Chloe snapped a palm to her forehead as he nattered on. The thought of someone like Lucifer being intrigued by her grade school child’s ideas for a raunchy adult party made her fear for both of them for so very many reasons. She clogged his stream-of-consciousness flow with an abruptly barking dam of words.

“I’m coming to get her. **Now** . And you better make sure Maze hasn’t been making her any illegal Shirley Temples Lucifer, or so help me….” She took the phone away from her face, viciously disconnecting it over his bleat of _‘…but deTECtive…!’_

She took an extra half minute to slide her legs out, flop her arms loose and thunk her head back on the wall. She closed her eyes, feeling as drained as everyone had been saying she looked lately.

Not to her face, of course. Like that was anything new. Jerks.

Well, except for Lucifer. He’d been correct – said everything right to her, whether she wanted to hear it or not. But he could be a jerk too, intentionally or otherwise.

Eyes still shut, she pursed the right side of her bottom lip out and huffed a stringy lock of hair off her cheek. Right. As if it was her grandest plan to hit her midlife crisis early and have all the things she thought were stable crumble. Chloe felt that lip now curling wryly at herself; well, she always had been precocious. Scraping her booted heels under her backside she pushed herself to a stand, gathering her wits along with her phone and keys from the floor. She left her tarnished perceptions of personal dignity abandoned wherever they’d fallen last. ‘New Single Mom Existential Lost and Found Box’ – betcha there’d be a lot of women looking for misplaced stuff in there.

She sighed as she locked the door behind her and looked out over the serpentine lights of traffic waiting for her in the distance. ‘Once more into the breach’, eh?

Oh well. Par for the course, anymore.

Navigating the streets clogged with the plaques of vehicular cholesterol she finally arrived at Lucifer’s nightclub, hoping the deviant three hadn’t gotten themselves into too much trouble. And frankly, as much as she’d love it to be otherwise the professional knot-picker in her knew that Trix was as much of an instigator as the adults in their oddball little posse. Yep, her daughter seemed to take more after Penny than she did Chloe sometimes: genetic legacies were weird. Chloe paused for a second, hand suddenly clenched white-knuckled on the top of the car doorframe as she was prepared to close it. It still could take her breath away when it landed, that bewildering pang of twined loss and affection that laced lightning through her heart.

She missed her dad.

And missed feeling like she got ‘got’ by someone else, too. Without the creeping suspicion that she had to explain or defend herself from others who didn’t think like she did. She hurriedly swiped at the prickle in her eyes, choosing instead to let a small smile warm her face at the thought of him and his place in their family. Yes, it had been fairly simple and easy to be her ‘daddy’s girl’, (HTHS role notwithstanding) but it was so much more than that. He’d loved her mother dearly (and as frustrating as she found her sometimes, Chloe completely did as well), but he and Penny could not have been more opposite. Her mother was all passionate flash and verve; her father the steady soul who balanced her tilt and basked in the spectacular light she’d shone into him. Theirs was a wonderfully strange reciprocating relationship Chloe had never fully understood, but it did work for them…well…for as long as they’d had together. Not long enough. It was never long enough when real love was at the hub of it. Any kind of real love. As well she knew herself, on more than several counts admitted yet or otherwise. She took a deep breath, closed the door and raised her face to the heavens waiting beyond the obfuscation of the smog of LA and the logistics of her practical mind. Despite not buying into ‘all that stuff’ she felt a brief jolt of benign impetuousness and uncharacteristically followed it. Aqua eyes reflected jewels of unseen stars glowing in the sheen of her affection.

“Loved you, Dad. Still do. So much. Proud you were mine.”

She’d actually said the words softly aloud, which surprised her. No response – which was NOT a surprise - but suddenly she did feel better. And appreciated it, however it came.

The smile grew on her face as she walked to the side door of Lux. Well, maybe she did indeed understand unconventional opposites more clearly now, seeing as she seemed to have a ‘perplexing Penelope-style’ friendship of her own tightening her life’s current complex knots. That unexpected breath of fresh air, annoying ass and delightful snarl of warmth and aggravation. A tall, snarkydark puzzle of a person who fit the sharp edges of her life that she hadn’t realized needed some outside polishing. The triptych of mom, woman and Detective Chloe Decker took another deep breath as she opened the club’s side door with her ‘in case of emergency in your life or pants’ key (label NOT hers thanks, and yes, he’d actually labeled the little tag on it) and walked up the service staircase, abruptly feeling more content and settled then she had in weeks.

The pleasant feeling was, pardon the pun, shot completely to Hell as soon as she entered the club proper.

“Dammit, Lucifer! What the…?”

It looked like every B-rated Vegas showstopper set had exploded in Lux. Spangles, props, half-naked staff trying on costumes of every sort scattered everywhere as if those in charge had a discount on bath salts, indulged in a group snort-fest and THIS mayhem is what had ensued. Chloe shook her head, incredulous.

“Hi Mommy!”

The incredulous head-shaking changed to the robust irritation of jaw-clenching.

Right in the middle of the bedlam and looking for all the world as if she belonged nowhere else was her precious daughter. The one she wanted to hug tightly then toss over her knee and swat some sense into for not calling her.

The former, yes. The latter no. Not that she would. Well. Not yet.

Trixie was perched on a high bar stool across from Maze, apparently eating ‘dinner’ out of a cocktail garnish box. Apparently her new roommate considered a well-balanced meal for a growing child to be olives and maraschino cherries on plastic spears. Chloe resolved (among other things) to define kitchen rules in their new place ASAP. And it seemed as if Trix and Maze had been amusing themselves by finger fighting with those same little weapons of sobriety destruction over a small plate filled with more junky tidbits. Chloe looked closer…Cool Ranch Puffs. ‘Dammit Lucifer’ seemed applicable again. Ridiculous. All of it.  

Seeing the looks warring on her mother’s face Trixie was quick to squeak reassurance at her. She’d had a **_great_ ** afternoon; her best in a while and didn’t want it spoiled by any misunderstandings. “And don’t worry! It’s iced tea - not bourbon, mom.” Yes. That should do it. All better. Wait…oops.

Chloe slapped a hand over her forehead (again, ow) – she hadn’t even noticed the tumbler. That had to be the most ridiculous sentence uttered by an eight year old EVER, but it was also reassuring, all things considered. And she was furious that it was so very necessary.

And that outfit. What the…? Nope, ask out loud for answers. She realized her inner monologue was getting a little out of hand.

“Trix.” Chloe sighed, trying hard to get her act together. C’mon Decker, focus. Reboot. “Trixie, babe, what **are** you wearing?”

Apparently her daughter’s love for strong, smart, feminine women still translated into a singularly complex mash-up of ballerina, chemist, ninja… and nightwalker? Concept of ideas mostly decent, execution poor. Damn that Maze and her pint-sized chain-y leather hooker jacket she’d given Trix. The hard edges of her coat weren’t really softened by the tutu and amine knee socks peeking out from underneath it. And were those false eyelashes? Bedazzled with Swarovski crystals?? Penny would likely be proud as Maze apparently was, admiring her handiwork on the little girl across the bar. Chloe swore to herself the two women would never cross paths and groaned inwardly even as her daughter chattered, shuddering further at the thought of likely fallout from Mazikeen helping Trix choose clothes on busy school mornings. _‘Hi Ms. Decker…yes, it’s Principal Scharr calling…we’ve got just a little problem hate to say…’_

“It’s my Halloween costume! Maze and Lucifer thought it would help me get in the mood to decorate. They even said I could come to the party tomorrow for a little while, Mom. Can I? Well? And you, too! We’re both invited. Even Daddy is, although Lucifer said he can only come if he wears what he’s told. It’s a surprise.”

Chloe shot what she hoped was a withering look at the gleeful smirky gleam rising over Trixie’s head. If anyone had an idea of where to find a Dan-sized douche outfit, Lucifer probably would. She squashed the small notion that she approved after this afternoon’s debacle with him that had landed her here now. With these infernal idiots.

And what was with all the shrink-wrapped packages further cluttering the bar already piled high with the glitz and fancy glam of Lux Halloween décor? Chloe asked, regretting it almost immediately.

“Soap and toilet paper, Decker. For later on. C’mon, even you must’ve participated in Mischief Night as a kid.” If anything, Lucifer glowed brighter at Maze’s deadpan delivery.

“Can you believe it? Been here nearly six whole years and n’er yet participated in such a fun ruckus. You can help me pop my cherry, Detective. It’s one of very few I’ve got left. Oh? What?” Lucifer looked confused as he was handed a soggy cocktail napkin loaded down with marachinos by the little human sitting next to him.

Lucifer then looked less confused and more on the brink of hysterical laughter as Trixie informed him that she ‘had lots of cherries’ and was happy to share with him.

Oh that was IT. They were DONE here. SO done. Chloe opened her mouth to yell in admonishment at everyone in front of her, instantly deciding to be surprised as everyone else at what might come out of it.

And was promptly derailed by her daughter’s cunning. Penny (and the hellions too, really) would be proud. Moving quickly to stem the breach and speaking in a gentle voice Trixie brought a soft armful of props over to where her mother stood, clasping her hand and bringing her to sit on the nearby piano bench. Chloe was startled into silence as her daughter reached back to loosen her ponytail, fluff her dark blonde waves loose and pinch her cheeks gently to bring color into her pale skin. The next step was winding a sheer white wrap studded with tiny sparkling crystals around her shoulders. The final touch was a tiara of larger crystals wound through flexible golden feathers. It sounded just as tacky as it probably was but through Trixie’s young eyes she thought her softer-edged mother now looked just as beautiful as she’d always made her daughter feel. The little girl turned to her special (how very, she had no idea) friends still moored at the bar.

“It won’t float like a real halo, and she doesn’t have wings, but doesn’t my mom look like an angel?” Sensing somehow she’d uncovered a nerve in the silence meeting her question, Trixie pressed further. “Doesn’t she?”

Oh my God. Father.

“Yes, child. She does.” Maze rolled her eyes in silent disgust as he’d expect, but Lucifer himself?

He simply stared, resisting the urge to clamp a hand down on the strange feeling upwelling from his gut. She did, really. It was unsettling to say the least. Frightening, almost.

But not nearly so as what only the Devil and the demon could now hear coming from the staircase above them. A new voice, but familiar. Unexpected. **Unwanted**. Lucifer’s indrawn hiss of a word was barely audible as he registered this second quick shock.

“Yes, she does look somewhat divine indeed, brother. Funny how that happens. Could happen. **Will** happen…sooner than one might think…but you knew this was coming, didn’t you? And you’re supposed to be intelligent…such a disappointment.  Again , actually.  **Still** , more like.”

The color Trixie’s little pinch had called up blanched out of Chloe’s face as she watched Lucifer’s suddenly stricken gaze track to the empty landing above the space. His expression – what had happened? And **what** had he said?

As if in response to her unspoken question the Devil repeated himself, fury and fear both siphoned into the maelstrom of his voice. With the spat of that single word as he rose to his feet, Mazikeen quickly unsheathed her blades in fierce readiness behind him.

**_“Uriel.”_ **


End file.
